Month 7

Welcome, third trimester.  I've heard so much about you.  I hope you aren't as bad as everyone says!  

November brings with it Thanksgiving, which was  really hard for me my first year here.  I didn't realize just how important that meal was until I was away from it.  Easter and Christmas are so riddled with commercialism that they lost their way.  But Thanksgiving stays on the course as being the day you sit down (like it or not) with your family and/or friends and stuff your face while being reminded to give thanks for what you have.  I was a basket case my first year.  I vowed to never miss another one.  Then I got knocked up!  No worries, I had last year and I will have other years.  I threw myself into planning the Thanksgiving event at my pub.  I set the menu, helped out the Turkish chef, Erhan, who didn't have a lot of experience with some of the traditional dishes.  I handled the desserts, pumpkin and apple pies.  After much prep and work (and tears) we pulled it off.  It was pretty successful, from what I was told, in that we sold out of plates.  I'm not certain how profitable it was for the pub, but the food was outstanding and the customers loved it.  That helped distract me, but I can't help but miss everyone.  

We have started receiving donations from friends and buying things for the baby.  I got an unexpected donation of baby clothes from a friend of a coworker, all boy stuff, but greatly appreciated.  We got a car seat from the Message classifieds, for 10 Euros!!!  Its practically brand new, she hardly used it at all.  We bought our dishwasher from the Message classifieds, and that woman gave me maternity clothes, baby clothes and a bassinet.  I got an email from a friend of a friend, offering us baby clothes, for a girl, a cosleeper (an infant "crib" where one side drops so you can keep it next to you in your bed for easy night feedings) and a cocoon a baby.  Another friend is giving us a moses basket.  A dear fried of mine just gave me everything her son has grown out of since she moved here (he was a few months old then) until now, he is about 18 months.  So at this point, I have a shit ton of boys clothes, and a small amount of girls clothes.  Most of it is for the beginning, 0-6, and a decent amount for 6-12 months.  Its just as well that I feel like I'm having a boy!  A lot of the clothes really could go either way, but there are some things that are definitely boy stuff.  If I do have a girl, as Ann Marie is convinced I am having, every other person I  know who is pregnant is having a boy.  I'm not exaggerating, I know at least 9 or 10 women who are pregnant, or have just had babies, and every one of them is a boy.  I know 2 women who are also waiting for the surprise.  So, worst case scenario, I give the boy stuff to these other women and go get me some girl stuff.  Not that I"m really the pink, frilly type.  I like the more modern look for little girls.  And here, people dress their kids like little adults, anyway.  I see more trenchcoats and skinny jeans on little girls than I did on adults in the US.  Its funny.  

Some items donated to us:

This actually did not come from Annie!! But I thought she would appreciate it!!

Each one of these items is marked 3 months, maybe I'm just new at this, but I see a small difference between them

The baby has really started kicking up a fuss in there.  I'm definitely feeling it.  Unfortunately, Spud is reeking havoc on my lungs.  I can't breath.  I would be sitting there, minding my own business, then suddenly, the wind has been knocked out of me from the inside.  Stairs have become my mortal enemy.  I can use the stairs, but I need to take my time and I need to pause for a break at the top. Between the extra weight and the pressure on my lungs, its not fun.  I am definitely waddling.  Really, I have been for a while.  But there is no avoiding it now.  I waddle.  Work is getting harder.  I was really looking forward to the end of the month.  I was down to working 2 days in the pub and 1 day in the office.  But I'm ready to stop.  

People have began with the "Oh my god you're huge!  How many babies are in there?!"  I know they mean well, but its really f*%@ing annoying.  I am 5'2", I have no torso and I am carrying the baby of a man who is 6' tall and was 11 pounds when he was born.  I am going to show a bit more than a woman who is, say, 5'9".  Then I had my monthly sage femme appointment.  HAHA!!  I still had not gained any weight, since month 5 and she said my measurements were perfect.  She actually used the word perfect!  So now I got to go around telling people that I'm exactly the size I should be, so suck it.  I can still fit into my pants, without zipping them, of course.  But I can still wear some of them.  I still look exactly the same, minus the large beach ball under my shirt.  

My sleep was starting to be effected.  I can sleep, but its not continuos.  I wake up after every REM cycle, pee and then go back to bed.  Its ok, I still sleep.  But i miss a good 8 hour stretch.  Its strange, because my iron is low, so you would think I'd be more tired, thus sleeping better.  But I guess it a way for you to get used to not ever sleeping  8 hours straight again!  I got my flu shot!  So Spud and I are good for quite some time.  

We took a parenting class.  It was a weekend long class, all day Saturday and Sunday, with 5 other couples.  We went over loads of stuff about pregnancy, childbirth and the first few months.  It was really great, and in English!  

Along comes December and I get to stop working.  I spent the first weeks still scheduling myself like a crazy woman.  I was running around busy as before.  I was still doing 1 day in the office, as it is easy enough to sit at a desk and work on a computer.  I started doing modeling for a life drawing class.  Yes, it was naked.  Like I said before, I love being pregnant.  And since I'm not putting on ridiculous amounts of weight, I love the way I look pregnant.  So why not get paid for it?  It works out well, its only 2 hours a week and it pays well.  I met a really cool Irish chick, who is also pregnant and we starting hanging out.  

I got a wake up call, though, about how I was running around.  Robbie and I were hanging out at home.  He was sitting in a folding chair and then slowly started to slip towards the floor as the chair breaks in slow motion.  Needless to say, I laugh until I start peeing a bit.  As I go to the toilet and to change, Robbie notices that the back of my knee is all purple and swollen.  So in on instant I go from laughing until I pee, to crying hysterically.  I was freaking out.  I sent pictures all over the world getting feedback from my friends and family, while Robbie is on the phone trying to get a doctor to come round the house to look at me.  In the end, I put on the compression tights and laid down with my leg elevated.  It turns out, yes, I do have a small vericose vein in my leg, nothing to really worry about.  I just have to wear the special tights everyday and we will deal with it once I am done having babies.  I am also now taking it easy.  I am not making plans to go all over God's creation everyday.  I take Robbie to work, I go to my French classes 3 nights a week, I go to physical therapy and to my one day of work.  I will make some plans with people, but for the most part, I'm chilling.  

Other than that small hiccup, all is still going well.  I feel great.  I do have a few moments where the reality of being pregnant hits home.  This baby will be mine.  No one will come take it away when I am done with it.  We are the parents from now until we die.  Whoa!  But then I think of what kind of freaking miracle it is to be growing a tiny human inside of me.  I am a self contained family right now.  There is a living thing inside of my who will have their own personality and thoughts.  It will walk and talk and I made it, with a bit of help from Robbie.  (I don't want to downplay how wonderful he has been every step of the way.  He is so amazing, but you already knew that!)  

Now, I'm looking forward to the holidays and the next ultrasound!!  

New Apartment

So, as I mentioned in the last post we moved.  As with most things here in France, it is no easy feat to find an apartment.  You would think in a city specifically designed to house as many humans as possible, you could find a place to live with minimal efoort.  Oh no, my friend, you can not.  I am accustomed to searching for apartments in the US.  You find the ad, you call the person, you see the place, you leave a deposit, you move in.  Simple as, right?  Yes, there may be some competition, but the almighty dollar speaks louder than words and if you got the money, you got the spot.  

Here, there is a process.  There are 2 main websites with which to find apartments: pap.fr and seloger.fr.  The first is listed by the owner, the second you generally have to deal with an agency.  Obviously, the first is more appealing, so most people go there, which means you could be going up against dozens of other people for 1 spot, but there is no agency fee.  In the second case, there may be less competition, but you generally have to pay a 1 month fee on top of the deposit and rent.  Seems easy enough, but there is the dossier.  You need to show up with all of your most pertinent and personal details of your life, photocopied and bound, if you're feeling fancy.  In this dossier, you need proof of who you are (color copies), bank statements, paycheck stubs for at least 3 months, proof of payment of rent for your current apartment, your RIB (which is how all auto payments are done here.  You get a slip from your bank with all the important details and your landlord, electric company, cell phone provider, etc can just auto deduct the payment from your account.  It really makes life easier)  any application required by landlord or agency and a garantor.  A garantor is someone in France, who owns property and is willing to sign a paper saying that they are responsible for the rent if you decide to run off with out paying.  Most French people just use their parents.  That's all well and good if your parents live here.  But if you are like us, you have to ask a really big favor of someone, and most people will say no.  Its the same here as cosigning a house loan back home.  Seriously.  

Some places will even ask for more info, but that's a rough outline of the dossier.  There are loads of things you can add to spruce it up.  Its more serious than having a good resume/CV.  You walk into a showing and hand a blank faced person all the details of your life, without so much as a smile or a thank you for your interest!  There you are, reduced to a folder shoved in among so many other folders.  It really makes you feel how insignificant your life can be in a big city.  It can suck the life out of you.  Especially the phone calls.  I called dozens of numbers about places, hope rising in me about this beautiful place with a garden or a big kitchen, only to have the person on the other end flatly state "Its been rented. CLICK" After a day or two of that, you can feel the joy seeping from your soul.   But I'm American, dammit!! You can't keep me down!!! I will find a f@*)ing apartment if its the last f%^*ing thing I do!!!  And I will smile at you until my cheeks hurt while doing it. 

And just that we did.  Robbie had seen an ad during the summer and sent an email.  We never really heard back.  So in October, we saw the same listing still there, but the price had dropped.  So this time, we called, as our French is better orally than written.  We were sent an email telling us exactly what they wanted for the dossier and an application.  We got right on it.  Robbie also found another apartment and we got our dossier ready for them, too.  THe first one was bigger (90 m2), but in an ok area.  The second was smaller (60 m2), but in a great area.   It came down to the wire, but we went with the bigger place.  As I keep telling myself, I live inside the apartment, not outside.  I am glad we chose as we did.  

AS this was all going on, I had started packing.  It worked out well, as I was starting to outgrow my clothes.  As I retired item after item, and the seasons were changing, I packed the suitcases and readied for the move. It was fun, as I got to get rid of loads of stuff.  As I am a mix of my parents, my inner hoarder (dad) usually loses to the inner cleaner (mom).  So I enjoy the purging that comes along with a move.  Its amazing how much shit 2 people can accumulate over 2 years.  

Anyway, the word came in around the 25th of October that we would be signing the contract on the 29th and Robbie organized the move for the night of the 31st.  The 1st of November is a holiday here, so he got all of his work buddies to come over after work on the 31st with 2 vans, they loaded them and hauled us away to an apartment I had yet to see!!! I had not seen it yet as there is another fun twist to apartment hunting here, pregnancy is a very delicate subject.  You would think that a young, pregnant couple would be a great candidate for a tenant. We represent stability, planting roots, etc.  But no, not here.  You are a risk, because it is harder to kick a family out of an apartment once they are in there.  Nice, huh?!  So, as I was seriously showing at this point, I did not get to go along for the viewings.  All in 1 night, the amazing men packed our life into 2 vans and moved us into my surprise apartment.  

Also, the week before, Robbie had been offered a job managing a pub, in the same family of pubs he had worked for for years before.  It was an increase in wages and a big change in schedule.  He would go from working 7am to 4pm to working 5pm to 2am.  He would only have to work 5 days a week, compared to the 6 or 7 he was working.    Not to mention no longer having the threat of getting cancer everyday.  All while doing something he loves.  No brainer!

The morning of November 1st found us in a new apartment and Robbie starting a new job.  That weekend, we went to his old office and picked up the car he had been given by the neighbor of a coworker.  We were now the proud owners of a 1989 Peugeout 309 Chorus edition.  Pretty sweet, huh? After about 30 minutes, we got the battery started, it had been sitting at the shop for a few months.  But she is in good working order.  She only had about 100k kilometers on her, which is amazing for a 24 year old car.  (that's about 62,000 miles)  She has no frills, but she's a trooper!!  I needed to drive around to charge the battery, so I proceeded to drive for about the next 8 hours.  I haven't stopped since.  Popo, her nickname, has been great.  She has her quirks, but she is a hell of an old gal.  

So, without further ado, the photos of Popo and our new apartment:

Hallway

Our bedroom

(there is a closet to the right)

The baby's room with double closet and balconey

Bathroom with shower, tub and double sinks

Toilet room 

Laundry room

Living and dining room

Kitchen

Our gigantic terrace

This is by far the nicest apartment I have ever lived in.  Its completely brand new.  The windows in our room, the baby's room and on the terrace have shutters that are all electronically controlled.  They each have a control or there is a master in the hallway that controls all of them.  To give an idea of the size, 90 m2 is about 900 sq ft, so roughly the size of our house in the US.  When you rent an apartment here, it doesn't come with anything, except the absolute essentials: toilet, sinks, shower/tub and walls.  Everything else you must provide.  Yes, I mean the fridge, stove and the cabinets.  So it has been a bit slow going as far as getting this place kitted out in a style in which we have become accustomed, i.e. big fridge, fancy stove, dishwasher, etc.  But, its coming along nicely.  We are getting things little by little.  And each night I do a bit more organizing and getting rid of things.  As we are coming down the home stretch, we are pulling it all together.  These pictures are from 2 weeks ago and it already looks different, as we just bought a dining room table today and I've gotten a few more things for the baby's room.  I will post more pictures when its all done.  

The area is ok, its very suburban, so we don't have a choice of patisseries and boucheries outside our door.  But there is a brand new creche (daycare) across the street next to a new park.  There is a school on the street behind the new construction, which is next to our building.  They are spending a lot of time and money developing this area.  It can be a bit ghetto in some spots, but its relatively quiet.  We live very close to a bunch of shopping centers with big hypermarches, which are the equivalent to super Walmarts and Targets.  And, there is an Ikea very close.  Which we are at at least once a week, if only just for lunch!  We live near an RER train, which is the regional rail for Paris.  It takes us into Notre Dame in 5 stops (15 minutes) There is a bus which takes us right into our old neighborhood, or directly to the smaller airport, Orly.  And, of course, we have the car.  

I love it.  That's all I can say.  

Month 6

Month 6

So, I know, its January and month 6 was in October, but there have been a lot of changes going on around here.  And I'm lazy.  Unfortunately I didn't keep very good track of what went on when, so this will be a brief synopsis based on my memory, which roughly resembled swiss cheese at this point.  But here goes!

So I had previously been diagnosed with gestational diabetes.  I knew I didn't have it, but I went along with it until I could prove otherwise, which I got the chance to do.  I finally insisted that I have a second test.  The second test consists of going to the lab first thing in the morning, getting my blood drawn and then drinking this really nasty glucose stuff.  I had to sit there for an hour and get my blood drawn again.  As if the beverage wasn't bad enough, it gave me the worst reflux and I could do nothing about it.  I then had to sit there for another hour and get my blood drawn again.  At this point I wasn't sure if I was going to get sick from a mixture of reflux and hunger or pass out from exhaustion, boredom and hunger.  But my discomfort and annoyance was not wasted, for a passed the test with flying colors!! SEE!!! I told you so!! I'm not diabetic.  Suck it!!

So I no longer had to deal with all the testing and monitoring what I eat.  Freedom at last!  More importantly, I was right and I like that.  :)  The one good thing about eating that way is that I didn't gain any weight in the month, so the sage femme couldn't give me a hard time again about gaining weight! 

Work was getting a little bit tougher.  The hardest part is that I work by myself during the day, so if something needs to be done, its on me.  Carrying all the stuff up from the basement was getting a bit harder, especially since I couldn't just pile it all on and run up the stairs.  I did have some help by Paul and the guys in the kitchen.  Even the owners would pitch in by taking down chairs and doing anything I needed if I was stuck while they were around.  It was great. I love my job.  The customers were even understanding and not as demanding.  The sage femme asked if I wanted to stop right then, in mid October.  I had set my goal as the end of November and was determined to make it until then.  How crazy it is that I have the possibility of having off work from October?  Crazy!  Back home, as a waitress, you have to work right until the baby is crowning!  

Halloween came around.  I was excited to use my belly as part of my costume.  The only problem was that I had to work that day, so it had to be work friendly.  So no bun in the oven costume or funny partner costumes, like nun and priest.  But, I could use belly paints!!  So Farmer and pumpkin it is!!  Thanks to Octavia, I had a perfectly drawn pumpkin on my belly!!! 

Halloween 2012

So, after this picture was taken, and my shift ended, I immediately headed home to help Robbie and all of his co workers move us into our new apartment.  It was also Robbie's last day at the job he has had since we moved here.  No more asbestos!!! It was a very hectic week for us, to say the least. 

I will get into the apartment later.  In the meantime, we had gone to a Message event called a bring and buy.  Essentially it was a big indoor flea market, but geared specifically towards moms.  So everything there was for kids or moms.  It was the best thing ever for parents.  They had everything you could need.  We weren't sure what we wanted or needed, so we were pretty relaxed about it, but there were some serious shoppers there!!  I did get knocked around a bit, just like any normal flea market back home.  I now regret taking it so easy, but we just didn't know where we were going to be living, how much space we were going to have and what we even needed as some people were offering us things and we didn't know what we were being given.  But, i did score some good deals.  I got a shit load of maternity clothes for like 15 Euro.  I got one of those scarf, baby holder thingys and a playmat for the floor.  I can't wait for the next one!  

As for me, I was really feeling pretty great.  I see what they mean that the second trimester is the best.  I was absolutely loving being pregnant.  There are the frills, like people being nicer, getting seats on public transport, and skipping the queues at shops and in toilets.  But I was really enjoying having a person growing inside of me.  I was flying, as Robbie would say.  I was finally starting to feel something going on inside.  Not a whole lot, but enough to know that all was well in there.  I don't know how to describe it, but I just love being pregnant!  A girl from my bank, Michelle, said that to me once and I thought she was crazy, but I stand corrected.  I never would have thought I would ever say it myself, but its true.   

 We had our second echographie (sonogram).  We always tell them first thing that we do not want to know the sex.  And they are very good about it.  I learned a hard lesson that day: NEVER eat right before getting a sonogram.  She had a hard time finding all the parts she needed to see, Spud is apparently a bit surly and likes to hide.  So the tech had to really dig and push and rearrange all of my organs to find everything.  I really believed I was either going to vomit to shit myself right there on the table.  I started getting queasy and sweating.  Robbie looked at me and saw it right away.  He got me out of my sweater and tried to help me calm down.  I didn't do either, in case you were worried.  But I will never eat again before any doctor visit again!!I was also a bit miserable because she had my laying on the table in such a way that I could not see the screen at all without craning my neck all the way to the right and back.  So I essentially saw nothing and wanted to die, so I can't say it was the best thing ever! But at least I have the DVD!

I like this one as it looks like Spud is smiling.  After she was done, I was still lying on the table recovering from the internal trauma she inflicted.  Robbie looks at the screen and his face drops a bit.  "I think I know the sex now" he says.  "What?! I don't want to know!" I reply.  Then there's a bit of a pause.  "Well, I either know the sex of the baby, or that's your information up there"  he says all nonchalantly.  "Well that's just great!! Now I know the sex, you tit!"  I yell at him.  So, to be sure, he clarifies with the tech that the info on the screen is in fact MY info, so we did find out that I am a girl.  At least we have proof now, if it ever comes into question.  So we dodged that bullet and are still blissfully in the dark.  (As much as that annoys the shit out of some of you!)  

   

Month 5

Month 5: Half way there!!

                                                     Me at 20 weeks (while still in Rome)

So, here we are at the halfway point.  It still seems as though I have been pregnant forever, and I will continue to be so for the rest of my natural life.  The good news is, its not because I'm miserable.  Its more like when you are a kid and its summertime.  Christmas seems like it will never come.  Only, I have to look at my present everyday and wonder what's in there.

I must admit that this is the best I have felt in a long time.  Those awful few weeks in the beginning are in the distant.  And mush like you forget the pain after the tattoo is done, I don't remember what it was like to be so nauseous and tired.  I could totally do this again.....

I'm still not having any crazy bizarre cravings.  I have become very susceptible to the power of suggestion.  If I see an image of something delicious (i.e. everything on Pinterest) I want said item.  I did pursue the need for an oatmeal cookie in the pouring rain, for 10 minutes, only to be bitterly disappointed by my go to bakery.  I did drag Robbie along on this adventure, and he was not a fan.  He kept asking me how important it was, really.  Really??!! You are going to ask a pregnant woman how important her undying need for a single, specific cookie is?!?! Well, you better get ready, cause this is just the beginning, I'm sure.  I have been pretty easy on him, foodwise, thus far.  (I can't say the same in any other way)  THEN, he had the audacity to ask me for a BITE!!!!  Have you not met me?!  I don't like to share dessert on a good day, unless its with a child bc they don't take big bites.  I had even asked him what he wanted to avoid such an instance.  Only because of the rain did I break off a small piece for him, but next time, I'll be taking a small piece out of him!

After returning from Italy, it was back to the real word, such as endless doctor appointments.  Not just for me, Robbie has a few of his own.  In the mix, I ended up at an appointment by meyself.  Of course its the one time that its with a sage femme who doesn't speak any English.  Its ok, I can, relatively, carry on a simple conversation, especially when its one where I know the answers to all the questions!  So, we get to the part where I have to get on the scale.  So, I started to take off my boots, yes I need to clarify that I was wearing boots, jeans and other such clothing.  I'm still a girl, and we like to make the scale say the smallest number possible.  So, I get on and it says 70 kg.  Now, I started off my pregnancy at 62kg.  A kg is roughly 2.2 lbs.  Yes, I was not skinny to begin with, but I was far from obese.  So, she starts talking about the weight thing.  She asked me "tu monges beacoup?" which means, do you eat a lot, but I took it to mean do you eat well.  So I said yes.  Which is no the right, or accurate, answer.  I eat 3 meals a day, normal sized.  I keep sweets to a minimum and I am hardly ever in McDonalds, unless its for the occasional egg mcmuffin.  So then she starts in on me about how much I've gained and that I'm not eating for 2, and all that.  Now, this is a time when I lose my French, when I get flustered and nervous.  I knew what she was saying, but I couldn't find the words to defend myself.   So I just let it go, but I still felt the pain of having just been told I'm fat.  (If you are a woman, you understand the leap there from words said to what I heard.  Robbie doesn't)    As we are having this discussion, I'm getting up on the table to have a listen to the heartbeat.  So by this time, I don't want to lift my shirt, as she is judging me, the skinny French twat.  She takes the measurements. quietly.  Then asks if I can feel the baby yet.  Since I have no idea what exactly I'm waiting for, I don't think I have.  I also sometimes think I can, but without any definitive definition of what the quickening feels like, I have no idea.  Then she essentially asked me what was wrong with me.  She took my hands and put them on my belly, as if I don't do that same freaking movement a thousand times a day, and started pressing my hands down.  Then she was like, nothing?  No, but you staring at me with those judging eyes aren't really helping, now, are they.  So, in the span of 10 minutes, she has informed that I'm an overweight, bad mother who can't connect with her baby.  At this point I wanted to cry and run away, but I need to hear the heartbeat, as I have those irrational fears that something has actually gone wrong and the worst case scenario has happened.  So when she finally put the wand on my belly, I did let out a few tears.  But as she was not the warm, fuzzy source of comfort I would want for this moment, I held back.  At this point, I needed Robbie to be there as he IS my warm, fuzzy sense of comfort.  But, instead, he was sitting at home waiting for me to call to tell him to meet me.  Needless to say, I nearly lost my mind at this point.  So that makes for a bad situation.  It did all work out, but it was a bad 30 minutes or so for me.

AS you may recall, I had a bit of an issue with my sugar level before, so I now had to deal with that.  The following week, I went to my appointment at another hospital.  I was thinking that I was going to be retested or somehow further examined.  But instead, I was there to deal with my diabetes.  What?!  No second opinion?  I get a bad grade on one test and they jsut cast me off as diabetic?  I'm not really happy with this.  In the interview part, she is asking about the test, and even asked if I had been retested.  When I said no, she looked confused, but carried on anyway.  I was there to take a little class on gestational diabetes and how to work the new machine that will be a part of my life 7 times a day for the rest of my pregnancy.  So as I go through everything, I begin to think about what happening.  This can't be true.  I don't agree.  Then, I start to realize what happened with my first test.  I was given a script, written in French doctor, telling me how to do the test.  I read, give blood, eat breakfast, come back at 1:30.  It said, give blood, eat breakfast and come back 1 hour 30 minutes later.  So, I give blood, eat breakfast, go have tea with a friend, eat a pain au chocolat, pain aux raisins and a piece of cake, then go directly back for my test.  Well no wonder I have a high sugar level!  But by the time I make my realization its really too late.  So, I decide to play along with this for a bit.  I have to test my sugar before each meal and then 1 hour and 30 minutes after, as well as at bedtime.  The good news is, as this is France, all the things I need for this (the testing machine, little needles and testing strips) are all free.  So at least I am not paying for their mistake.  I then send my results once a week to the nurse.  So, I've been doing the testing for a few days, and I will send my results, but I will also include a note explaining what happened the first time and ask for a second kind of test.  The testing is annoying, especially yesterday while at the horse races.  But, the new "diet" I have to follow is not horrible.  The other big restriction is that I can't have things with added sugar, like desserts.  Which is fine, I've really been a salty girl through this pregnancy.  I get to eat a good amount of food and I even get to eat a dessert once a week.  I get 3 meals, and have the option for small snacks up to 3 times a day.  I haven't really needed the snacks.  It won't hurt me to eat healthy for a while.  And like I said, its not like I was eating shit before.  So, I'll show them!!  :)

Also on the healthy front, I have started doing prenatal yoga.  I take a class outside my house once a week, and only because I got a groupon for them.  Yoga classes average around 25 Euros per class.  You can buy cards, but if a place offers prenatal, its only once a aweek, so the cards aren't really cost effective either.  The good news is there are always groupons.  Also, I have found a couple of good routines on Youtube and A friend gave me a good video.  So I do it 2x at home, in addition to my Saturday classes.  One of the classes on Youtube was doing the usual soothing talk and was referring to how great it will be to deliver your child and meet them and I about lost it.  Its not very relaxing to start crying about how sentimental it will be to meet your unborn child.  That's the only time I cry these days.  Anything I read, hear or see about actually delivering and holding my baby sets me off.  Normally I hover more on the angry side of the emotional scale (good times for Robbie!)  But the thought of meeting Spud, waterworks.

I have also started to attend some events sponsored by the Message group that Robbie found for me here.  I went to a great talk by a GP and a nutritionist about allergies and about vaccinations.  I met some women and even made a coffee date with a girl named Kelly.  She's about a month behind me, but also has a small son.  I also have connected with an old friend's friend who lives here.  She is due a month before me.  We are going to dinner next week.  I figure I need to start building my mom network here.  I have also had some lunches, and that fateful tea, with other moms here.  It feels good to be getting the input and advice.  I know I have been there for the births of my nieces and the children of my friends, but I never thought I'd be on this end of it.  I know that I have learned a lot watching my sister and helping with the girls.  But now everyone is so far away  This is the time when I miss family and friends the most.  I have such an amazing support system back home, even including 2 of those girls being pregnant, but I'm over here.  I know its the decision I made and I don't regret it, but its a frequent night when I wake up to pee and I can't get back to sleep because I'm wishing I was back there, if only for a little while.  (Cause its still way cheaper to have a baby here!)  Know that you all are in my forethoughts and in my heart.  I wish I could do more to make you all a part of this wonderful experience.  Thank you all for being there for me and for reading this blog.

Until next time.... :)

Spud's first holiday!! Italy

A few years ago, I (and Robbie) got sucked into getting a time share.  Yes, I know, I know.  But we use have used it the 2 years we had a week coming to us, so is not horrible.  But I digress.  So, we had to use a week this year, so we decided before we got pregnant to take a big. proper, French holiday.  (You get 5 weeks holiday with any full time contract here, I get 2+ with my part time contract)  So we had a trip planned to go stay at a friend's place in Croatia, visit with a friend and his family in Turkey and then finish with selecting a timeshare somewhere in the Mediterranean.  We didn't have many options by the time we went to book, so we found a place in southern Italy, that was convenient (by ferry) to where we would be staying in Croatia.   Then I got pregnant.  Robbie had a moment of rationality, and thought enough to save his holiday time to add onto the 2 weeks paternity leave he gets.  So, our trip went from weeks to 10 days.  I know, cry me  river, but disappointment is disappointment.  So, I called it our Babymoon, and decided to make the best of it, as it is still a holiday!

Fastforward to September.  We pack our bags and head off to Rome.  Back to the land of my ancestors.   I didn't do much research, so we just played it by ear.  I had a map and comfy shoes.  What more do you need?!

We land and make our way to the hotel.  Its quaint and quiet and breakfast is included (Annie booked it for us)  So we get up and head down to our free breakfast.  Well, let's just say that each country has a different idea of what breakfast should be.  Italy has an....... eclectic idea.  It was a big spread, if nothing else.  We had a choice of pasteries (most of them stuffed with cream or nutella), lunch meat and cheese, sliced bread to toast, yogurt, rolls, muesli (not the crusty kind, the kind like raw oatmeal) corn flake-ish cereal, fresh fruit, pineapple juice and bloodorange juice.   There were a few other bits and bobs that I didn't eat.  We left stuffed, if not satisfied (bc of course I was expecting eggs and bacon and the usual American deliciousness)

Off we head into town, to be good, old tourists.  First stop, the Colosseum.  We get there and see a small line and figured it didn't look so bad, let's do it.  When we get to the head of that line, the guard ushers us into the reserved lane, seeing as how I'm stuffed. :) Thank god for that, as the line on the inside was forever long!  Spud coming through to save the day!!  We snapped some phoy=tos, and headed off to our next stop, the Forum.

  Just across the way from the Colosseum is the Forum.  It was absolutely massive! To be fair, it was more than just the Forum, it was a huge site with dozens of buildings and sites.  We spent a large part of the morning exploring in there.  It was pretty cool to be somewhere so ancient. I realized at this point that sunscreen would have been a good idea, but it was nice to be in the sun, so I figued I'd muddle through.  We were starting to get hungry and found our way out of there.  Our next destination was going to be the Vatican, and in between the Forum and there was the place I was most looking forward to, the cat sanctuary!!

To me, that was the highlight of Rome.  The Torre Argentina Cat Sanctuary is a site of ancient temples form before Cesar, that is now home to hundreds of cats.  They are taken in, spayed and neutered, and, in some cases, nursed back to health.  Then they are released in the ruins and are free to wander around and make it their home.  The ruins are recessed and not open to the public.  But you can visit the sanctuary and play with the cats and see how the whole operation works.  You can also buy cat related gifts, all proceeds going to the site, which is run by volunteers.  We chose to buy something and give a donation.  It was a beautiful place that I would love to call home!!

After spending a good bit of time with the cats of Rome, we found a tiny little restaurant, tucked away, and packed with locals.  We fueled up and headed for the Vatican.  An interesting thing about Rome is that you can not go thirsty.  There are free drinking water fountains EVERYWHERE!  Inside the ruins, on the side of buildings, everywhere.  Which was good, because it was hot.  

At the St Peter's Basilica, we hit a small road block.  I was dressed for the weather, which was hot, and not for the Church, which has a dress code.  So my tank top and skirt weren't going to cut it.  After looking at souvenirs and sending off postcards, all done on premises, I spied another tourist buy scarves to wrap around herself.  So I followed suit and bought 2 scarves to cover my shoulders and legs.  We breezed right in.  It was breathtaking and we spent time looking around.  By the time we were done, the Sistene Chapel was closed, so we headed to the hotel to freshen up and head off to dinner  

The next day we picked up our rental car and headed south for the coast.  We learned a few things on the road:

1. on every road there is a special Italian lane, which exists between the other existing lanes on the road, much like platform 9 3/4 in Harry Potter.  

2. turn signals are an optional feature on Italian cars, and they must be expensive, because no one opted for them

3. the speed limits are mere suggestions, so pay them no mind.  If it is 130KPH, which you only know because your GPS tells you (signs must be expensive too), it is not uncommon for someone to pass you as if you were standing still

4. if they are not busy speeding past you at 160+ KPH, they are in the opposite lane doing 80kph, so when you move to let the Alfa Romeo on your ass pass you, you have to then slam on your brake sto avoid ending up in the passenger seat of the Fiat in the slow lane.

5. lighting roads at night isn't a necessity, even in the mountains on windy roads in the pitch black. Its not like there are any road works coming up that you have no forewarning about, while dealing with all the above mentioned items

To sum up, do not drive in Italy, ever

Our first stop was in an ancient town called Maters.  In this town, thousands of years ago, the people carved their dwellings out of the side of mountains.  People still ust these dwellings today, after some updating, of course.  I found us a hotel in these dwellings and it was amazing.  Its hard to say whether it was more gorgeous at night or in the early morning sunrise.  

Next stop, Metaponto, to our "resort" holiday.  Once we finally found it, due to the horrific lack of signage, we were a little wary.  It looked as if it was a great place to stay, in 1985.  It wasn't the worst place on the world, but once again, disappointment is disappointment.  If you have seen photos of a resort, you want a resort.  We got an outdated, sad place in an economically depressed region of Italy.  There was no town to speak of, and what little there was looked deserted and abandoned.  There were real estate projects stopped mid build.  Roads that lead no where.  No real restaurants or shops to speak of.  Just sad.  There are more trees growing olives and limes and grape vines than humans.  The beach was mainly private secyions belonging to the other "resorts" and campsites (most of which were closed)  in the area, sprinkled with sections of public beaches, which were not maintained, but had nice sand.  The water was gorgeous and calm.  It was apparently jellyfish season there as well, but the good thing is the water is crystal clear and the jellyfish have a dark purple ring around them, so you can spot them.  

Back at the apartment, we had a kitchen, living/dining room and 2 bedrooms. We had a TV with about 800 channels, all but 2 were in Italian.  The other 2 were a French news channel and a resort run channel that showed movies 2 times a day, most in English.  If you were lucky enough to flip to that channel at the right time, we could hear Enlgish and enjoy the TV.  Otherwise, we watched the 24 hour poker channel.  

Now, I don't want you to think it was all bad. There was a nice pool, which we had to pay extra for and then buy bathing to wear to be allowed in it.  There was internet, but you were allowed 10 hours for the week and had to sit outside the office in the wifi spot.  There was a little shop, which was open 3 hours in the morning and a few hours in the evening.  There was a bus to the beach, also included in the extra fee, which ran 3 hours in the morning and 4 hours in the afternoon.  And the was a restaurant, which was not expensive, but you get what you pay for.  We spent a lot of quality time together, as 97% of the other guests were Italian.  It was a great place for kids, as there were many things catering to them.  So I would go there with a family, but seeing as how I'm a self contained family as for now, it wasn't meant for a couple on holiday.  

We were lucky to have a car and went exploring.  We found Taranto, 45 minutes away.  Which was a big town.  We spent an afternoon, early evening there.  We visited a mall and some other shopping canters.  We used the excuse of grocery shopping, but we were really trying to fight off the boredom.  We spent a day in Bari, which is where my father's side of the family is from.  It was a big city surrounding a tiny medieval center.  We spent a day getting lost in the little tiny streets.  We visited Santa Claus' Church, well, St Nicholas, but yes, they are one in the same.  My scarves came in handy again! 

The upside is we ate VERY. very well. Thank god I was pregnant!!  I could eat all I wanted and not worry about looking fat.  We cooked a lot, so it wasn't a very expensive trip.  We spent every day on the beach and got great tans.  Robbie called it lying on the ground, but we had a great time.  There were loads of shells, some of them occupied by hermit crabs.  We laughed a lot, especially when we tried to get into the shower in our apartment.  We relaxed, whether we wanted to or not.  We realized that relaxing vacations are not our thing, so we know better for next to to do more research.  Here are some highlights form the south:

Trying to get into the shower:

Spud at the beach

Robbie in Bari

So after our week was up, we jumped into the car at 4am and got the hell out of dodge!  We went back to Rome for another full day.  We spent the day wandering around the city, eating everything we saw.  We visited the Trevi fountain, Piazza Navona and went back to the cat sanctuary, and every nook and cranny in between.  

All in all, we had a great time, Spud included.  The food was amazing, the people were kind (not on the road) and the weather was gorgeous.  And most importantly, it was a holiday where we got to spend some quality together, because i Know I'll  be kisssing that goodbye in February!  :)

Sure glad THAT's over!!!

So, here we are in the second trimester.  I tell you I am glad that first bit is behind me!  I really was beginning to wonder what is was that women love so much about being pregnant.  But now, I am beginning to get it.  Just within the last week, my belly has popped out.  I am assuming it is mostly baby, as I am not a big person with little torso room to spare.  I won't question it and will just go with my "gut" (couldn't resist the pun) thinking that it is all baby poking out.

This is the bit I have been waiting for!!  I can start wearing clothes that show off the bump!  I can walk around proudly having my belly out farther than my boobs and know that those are looks of love and understanding.  Well, that's what I thought I'd be getting, anyway.  Most people just don't bother to notice and pay me all the lavish attention.  I would even be happy with the knowing smile and nod.  But I have gotten more than one blatent stares.  Not just standing and staring, oh no, one girl was walking past me as I waited for the metro and could NOT take her eyes off my midsection.  As if I had an advertisement written there!  Same thing a few days later.  I was getting on the metro and another girl watched me walk past her and continued to turn in her seat and watch me take a seat behind her.  Have these women never seen a pregnant woman in their lives?  Could that not at least follow the stare with an acknowledging smile and nod?   Nope!  I'll let them go.  Because the flip side, I have now had to men get up on the metro to give me their seats.  Not the first men to see me on the metro, but they got up anyway, without me having to ask.  So that was cool.  One guy waved me down from across the train!  I'll take that!  Here is what my adorable belly looks like at 4 months:

We had our first appointment with the midwife yesterday.  So it looks as though I will be seeing them once a month for the rest of the time.  I get to choose whether or not I want my GP to follow me as well.  I just figure its easier for me to keep it all in one place so there is no question as to whether I forgot to bring this result or that measurement, or whatever.  That's the other thing I am not sure I mentioned yet.  Here, you are responsible for your medical records as much as the doctor is.  You are expected to keep your own records of everything.  When I get blood work done, they give me 2 sets of results, one for me and one for the doc.  Same with any other tests, such as lady "exams".  Which to sidetrack even more,  the funniest thing happened the first time I had one of those done here.  She took the sample, put it in the little vial, popped it into an envelope and handed it to me!!  Yup!  If this was CSI, we would be concerned about possible contamination of evidence and the evidence wouldn't be admissible in court.  But, nope, its all good.  You add your check to the envelope and send it off to the lab.  You then get the results back in a couple of days.  Takes some getting used to.  So, back to the record keeping.  I have my own dossier of all my test results and prescriptions and such.  I just keep them in a folder and take them around with me.  I like it because if there is ever a question, or I need to see another doctor, I have all my stuff and don't have to go back to my doc to ask for and pay for copies.

So, back to the midwife (sage femme) appointment.  Since this was the first one, it was mostly all background info for me and Robbie.  I am so glad he can come to these appointments.  Then, after the question and answer, I got on the table and got to hear Spud's heart beat again!  Its funny, becasue just that morning I started to have those thoughts like "How do I know if everything is ok in there if I can't feel any kicking?"  I didn't even have to say that, she just went for a listen.  That was cool!!  We schedules my next scan for mid October.  So Spud will be making another appearance then.  We asked her about our upcoming trip, just to make sure it was ok for me to travel.  (Not that I would have cancelled!!)  But she said its fine, I just have to wear those silly socks while on the plane.  What?!  I don't want to roll up into the airport in Rome wearing those things! Looks like I'll be wearing a maxi dress on the plane!  I know, I know!! Its very important and I will wear them, just hidden under a very long dress.  The good about living here, I have a prescription for them, so I will not have to pay for it all myself!!  I will get reimbursed for the money I spend on them.  I love France!

The only bit of bad news I got actually came today.  She forgot to mention that my sugar levels were a bit high from my blood test, so I have to take another appointment this week.  I really hope I don't have gestational diabetes.  I know its not the end of the world, but the last thing I want to deal with is yet another food restriction.  BOOOOO!!!!

Speaking of food, I love food.  I haven't had any particularly weird food cravings.  Unless you count the cravings for food I can not possibly procure here in France.  I really want a pit beef sandwich.  Like I can taste it, I want it so bad.  I can see the smoke from Boog's grill and smell the inside of the Canopy shop in Catonsville.  But there is no substitute.  Same goes for the fresh cut fries.  I have found a way to duplicate the Taco Bell bean burrito, thanks to a little help from Annie on her last visit.  She brought me refried beans and Taco Bell hot sauce, which I am happy to see they sell in stores now.  I also can't get a good, ole MD crab, smothered in Oldbay  with a side of corn on the cob oozing with butter.  Not gonna happen.  Give up the dream.  I also have had a hankerin for some fried chicken.  Good thing there are KFC's here.  I know what you are thinking, but look, a pregnant woman has gots to eat what she wants to eat, so there you go.  And, I must say, the quality of food here is a bit better than back home.  I think they have higher standards here.  The colonel's recipe does the trick.  Other than that, I haven't sent Robbie out at 3 am for pickles and ice cream.  I actually haven't had any cravings for sweets at all!  Which is super odd for me.  I can't get enough of salt.  I also am really diggin on cherry tomatoes and apples.

All in all, so far so good.  The second trimester is going better than the first.  My only ailments now are headaches and I was woken up the other morning by a massive leg cramp.  I have heard I have more of those to look forward to, especially since I work on my feet.   I can take it, especially if they all time themselves with my physical therapy appointments, like this one did!!  I figured, if I'm going to be woken up like that, at least its on a day I can have someone work it out.  I am going to start the prenatal yoga when we get back from Italy.  I think that should help a lot with my legs.  I also have cut down the amount of full days that I work.  I'm down to 3 full days, with the possibility of working a few hours on other days, as needed.

That's all I have for you now.  Hope everyone is doing well!!  Thanks for reading!!